You're Welcome
by Homicide Genius
Summary: A quick story about Worth and Hanna, and how Lamont should never be drunk. Ever.


The office was silent, for once, mostly because there was only two people inside. They had just finished another fight, one of their worst, and they had both agreed on sitting in opposite sides of the room. Worth at his desk, Lamont by the door. The fight was drunken, quick, and filled with slurred remarks. Any conversation with Worth ended that way, especially with Lamont on the other end. The conversation had started out well enough; the usual harmless name-calling, then busting out the booze, and then drunken stories. It started with jokes, then accusations. Things of all sorts, ruined nights and pranks, but the stories and accusations became more serious. Twenty minutes into the conversation, just when Worth was in the middle of badgering Lamont about something he'd done wrong, Lamont, who'd apparently been drunk and very offended, brought up Hanna.

Hanna was generally a taboo subject for conversation, but in his stupor, Lamont had felt it a good idea to drag him back up. The room was held in a tight grip of awkward silence. Worth had stopped in his sentence to take a drink, before catching Lamont's triumphant stare.

"What? Yeh know that's all I coulda done fer 'im. S'not like he wanted any better, 'nyways…," Worth spat angrily, letting his voice drift off, hoping Lamont would get the message. Normally, he would have just hit the bastard, but that was normally. Lamont was a lot like a new puppy. If he craps on the carpet and you let it go, he'll do it again. Being civilized was almost Worth's way of shoving Lamont's nose in a pile of dog shit.

"Yeah? Sewing him back together like a rag doll was a great idea. You and I both know that's horseshit, Worth." Lamont had always been ruthless in his drunken remarks. Not that Worth was actually hurt, but if that dumbass didn't shut the hell up, Lamont would be. Lamont had been there when Hanna was first operated on; hell, he had been the one to carry Hanna in. He'd been there to help Hanna through the worst of it, since Worth was too much of an asshole to be any help.

"Shut th' hell up, Lamont, 'fore I kick yer sorry ass. Yer not the one that operated on 'im, yeh didn't have to do anything but hold his hand." Worth said through gritted teeth, his voice rising at a steady pace. He couldn't even stand to not hit Lamont; he was just sitting there, not even holding his hands up to block a punch. He actually came close to hitting Lamont, until his train of thought was interrupted.

"Then don't act like you did him a favor. That kid's in pain every day, and it's your fault. The least you could do is –," Worth wouldn't let Lamont finish the sentence. He didn't need that bastard's advice, who was he to Worth, anyway? Why'd he even keep that asshole around? He felt his fist collide with the stocky man's head and listened with a grin as Lamont crashed forward, getting to his feet as quickly as possible before Worth could deliver a second punch.

And that's how the fight started; and it didn't end for another forty minutes, Worth hitting Lamont with his bony fists as hard as he possibly could. They didn't stop until Lamont ended up with his face being smashed against the wall, leaving a nice trail of blood behind it as he slid down the wall. He was unconscious for a few minutes, but when he came to, he was calmed down quite a bit. He looked up at Worth, touched his nose, and laid his head back against the wall.

"Suck it up, yeh pansy." Worth said triumphantly, walking back to his desk and lighting a victory cigarette, letting the cold silence hang over the room.

At that, Worth was left to sulk about what that twat had said to him. Worth was definitely not comfortable with self-pity, but he was certainly feeling sorry for Hanna. When Lamont had shown up with the redhead slung over his shoulder, Worth had treated him like any other patient. But was that the mistake? Worth had just left med school then, aggravated at a directionless life, and he was hardly in the mood to fix up a patient.

But Lamont had paid him to do it, money Worth desperately needed. And after he'd done his best, when Hanna came back to the world, it was the start of a new direction. Worth thought it had been perfect, that Hanna would be better, but had he been wrong? Worth had thought it'd been the most perfect moment; Hanna lying there on an operating table, his chest stapled up, Lamont half-asleep after watching a gruesome surgery, and an exhausted Worth. He hadn't seen Hanna awake before that. After Hanna had properly recovered from the surgery, Worth dropped by out of curiosity to the small apartment Lamont had given him.

"Thank you, Dr. Worth." Was all that kid had to say to him, although Hanna had looked better than he had when Worth first saw him, how could anyone guess that he wasn't really better? Worth pushed the thought aside, decided Lamont didn't know shit, and contentedly went back to drinking and watching Lamont patch up his nose.

"Yer welcome, asshole."


End file.
